If all is not lost, where is it?
A major ingredient of a great vacation is getting lost. The thing is that in India, you’re never really lost as long as there is another human around. When GPS and the directions your hotel sent let you down, when your phone can’t get Google, when even your supposedly local hired driver doesn’t know where you are, you’re only lost in India until the next person you see tells you where to go. (And yes, we’ve had situations where there are three people, and each one is pointing in a different direction. They’re all right.)
But even for India, these were some weird directions. We were to go up a narrow, twisting mountain road until we turned off on an even narrower, even more twisty track, and then follow that until it hit a dead end. At that point, our driver unloaded our suitcases, a young boy ran out and demanded 50 rupees for the privilege of stopping the car, and some porters appeared out of nowhere. This was followed by a procession of people carrying the various bits and pieces our luggage had mysteriously expanded into, like some Victorian jungle safari only with lighter clothes and fewer elephants. We all processed down a dirt path and emerged into paradise.
Okay, so maybe our little slice of paradise at the optimistically titled International Gokarna Beach Resort lacked air conditioning, hot water, a kettle, a fridge, and a working door lock.
And even here, Health & Safety raised mysterious warnings, such as this sign in the lobby of our beachfront hotel.
But who cared, when our little room opened onto a walkout terrace overlooking a delightful restaurant with a stunning beach just beyond?
The water on the beach was warmer than the stuff in the taps as we watched a glorious sunset.
Getting lost was never so good!
What’s the most wonderfully, fabulously lost you’ve ever been?
Barb Taub 